My Fire
An Ekphrastic Sonnet
Too many are owned by their possessions
Almost nothing belongs to me alone
To my master, I pose no glib questions
My will belongs to him; I never groan
Toil is my lot, labor my vocation
Sweat is the only equity I own
The poor form a vast and quiet nation
Our priest is interest; our god, a loan
But here, in this dry, gently waving field
I mutter a eulogy for dead weeds
When they are gathered, it will be revealed:
My power to give each one what it needs
My fire grants liberty from decay
Flames are my subjects: they my will obey
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Comments (18)
Congrats on TS! Very evocative piece and deeply insightful. Toil is your lot and you free the weeds with flame - which in, effect releases them and seeds to grow anew and perhaps not be weeds. Reality and symbolically.
This piece was tragically great - cheers D J!
Poignant piece brilliantly laid bare. So pleased I've read it. Congratulations on Top Story!
congratulations on top story!
Back to say congrats on your well deserved Top Story!🥳🥳🥳
Congratulations on your top story.
Congratulations again! 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Incredible! Very well-written!
Amazing. love it.
Oh, while I've been away for Vocal for a couple of weeks...I've missed your writing...you know how to really dig deep...you get...people...it's just incredible. Love it and that image is an emotion punch backdrop. Well done and congrats on a fine Top Story, sir!
This was so deep and hit me so hard. Loved it so much!
Story weaving with your sonnet. A little delve into a peasant's world. Deftly done, of course.
Wow, amazing sonnet "Too many are owned by their possessions" This line really fits to our world nowadays. Great job!
Excellent! Great line: ‘ Too many are owned by their possessions Almost nothing belongs to me alone.’ Someone once said ‘Our possessions, possess us.” I often think about that, when we accumulate more stuff & then have to maintain it.
Amazing poem! Very great!
Yes, I know it's a poem, but this one speaks volumes. Impressive!
Honored to be the first to comment and like. A beautiful revisit of the art. Well done. Fire purifies from us at our worst--decayed. "Our priest is interest; our god, a loan"--a great line.